Revenge of the Lonely
by rhead-a-holyc
Summary: Sometimes a decision made emotionally isn't always the best one. Dark!fic character death


Lorcan looked around at the bloody mess that was left of his family home, wondering if this was truly what he had wanted in the beginning. If this was truly what he had always wished for the rest of his family. Lorcan knew that is hadn't been, in the beginning, but his rage had grown exponentially over time.

"Boy! Come, before the Aurors arrive!" The red eyes of his sire stared at him in amusement, taunting him with the responsibility he didn't truly want to take but was his to shoulder, and Lorcan nodded his head, giving what was left of his home one last glance, wishing the feelings of hope to see his family again would fade.

That hope would only be broken, because he would never be seeing his parents again.

 **…** **xXx…**

Lorcan turned away from Lysander's excited face at the thought of _gifts_ from a far off place. Their parents were leaving again, looking for some mystical animal that his mother had mentioned only a week ago, something about "the Nargles told me…" and his father's eyes lit up at the prospect. They had begun planning their expedition immediately, not caring that they had only returned maybe three days prior to that.

 _They_ didn't care that they had children who would have preferred their parents to stay at home, and _just be there_ for a little while. Lorcan was certain they had spent more time at their grandpa's home than they had in their own, and he hated it. Lorcan wanted to stay at home and be able to run around in the backyard and forest, even though Grandpa Xeno had a forest too but Lorcan conveniently ignored that, he wanted to be able to sleep in his _own_ bed and not share one with Lysander! Lorcan could barely count the number of times he had been kicked off! Not to mention the number of times he had been forced to sleep without a blanket!

Lorcan could feel tears forming in his eyes, and he quickly ran back up to his room, slamming the door closed as he ran past it. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. Everyone else got to talk about how wonderful their parents were, or how annoying, and Lorcan didn't even know whether his parents were one or the other!

He wouldn't even mind if they were either, because that would mean that they were actually _there_ for him to become annoyed with, to shout at, to laugh with, _anything_. He couldn't continue like this, he simply _couldn't_. It didn't even feel like he _had_ parents anymore. They were strangers who occasionally cared for him when they were there, and didn't care when they weren't.

 **…** **xXx…**

"What's a little boy like you doing here this late at night? Did Mummy and Daddy not warn you about the danger?"

Lorcan gritted his teeth, even as he could feel fear creeping up his spine. The man's voice was patronising, high and mocking as if he were talking to a baby. He was dangerous though, Lorcan didn't know what it was but something about the other man was… _off_.

Pushing down his fear, Lorcan turned around to meet the blood red eyes, and he would have screamed if a hand wasn't suddenly covering his mouth. That didn't stop him from struggling, though, not that there was much he could do against the arm of iron that had wrapped itself around him.

"You're angry, boy, I can smell that. You reek of future revenge. I can help you with that," the man whispered in his ear, and Lorcan stopped struggling. That was what he wanted, right? He wanted his parents to feel bad about everything they had done! To regret leaving so often! That was revenge, right?

"Why would you help me?" Lorcan managed. There was nothing he could give this creature, for he wasn't human, that much was certain. Lorcan didn't have anything, now, nothing to offer in exchange for such a promise.

The man laughed in amusement, "Causing chaos is more than enough to gain my help. Do you accept it, then?"

Lorcan gulped, before nodding. He felt two short pricks on his neck, and his world began burning.

 **…** **xXx…**

"Is that where you used to live?"

Lorcan's head tilted slightly, wondering about the light that was on in his father's study. He had heard that his 'parents' had returned a month ago, and hadn't left since. Even the last visit had been abnormally short compared to the ones Lorcan could remember from only a year ago. Because that was how long it had been since he had last been in that building, give or take a week or so.

"It is."

His sire grinned, "You came a long way that night. Especially for a little nine year old boy that was as short as you were, I mean, still are."

Lorcan didn't grace that with a response. His sire enjoyed amusing himself at Lorcan's expense. It had been this way ever since he had woken up with an immortal body. It was fairly stupid to have been turned at the age of nine, because that meant that he would be stuck as a short shrimp for the rest of his existence. That hadn't been on his mind on that night, though, even if he would regret that little detail for the rest of eternity.

"Ready?"

A nod was all that was needed before they were moving again, faster than the blink of an eye. The door was splintered within seconds, the pieced barely touching the ground before they split to find the occupants of the house. Lorcan had wanted to spar Lysander, but Sanguini had managed to convince him otherwise. Lysander would want revenge if allowed to live, and there was no need for that. That would, perhaps, be his only regret in this entire thing. Lysander was innocent, he simply had never known better, never even thought that there _was_ a better than he had been living.

"What do you want?" Lorcan stilled, his father's voice washing over him. It still angered him, but he could still feel the longing for him as well. Lorcan ignored that part, his father would deserve this, right? As would his mother. Sanguini had assured him of that on many days when he had begun to regret the entire thing.

Finally meeting eyes that were exactly the same brown as his had been, Lorcan watched the realisation hit the man, but instead of the anger and betrayal he had expected, there was relief in those eyes. And love.

Lorcan had expected neither.

"Lorcan? You're alive? Thank Merlin!"

It was his mother this time. If Lorcan could cry, he would have, but not a tear left his eyes.

"Now, now, boy, don't get side-tracked after we've already come this far!" Sanguini warned, eyes still glinting in amusement at his torment.

"Side-tracked? What do you mean? Lorcan?"

His mother didn't care, though, flying at Lorcan, only to be intercepted by Sanguini, who threw her into the opposite wall as he had done to Lorcan so many times before. But… but his mother was human, could she have survived something like that? A sick feeling grew in Lorcan's stomach.

"Luna!" Lorcan could hear his father scream.

Sanguini was at Lorcan's side in a moment, whispering "You wanted revenge, remember? It's your time to take it. Don't embarrass your Sire. Besides, your brother is already gone."

And Lorcan's mind was filled with memories of lonely nights, of crying for his parents who were never there, and never cared enough to be there either. Every time he had asked them to stay, only to be waved off with a promise of a gift from another exotic place. There it was, the anger he had grown so accustomed to over the last year at the thought of his parents.

He looked at his father again, dark bags under his eyes yet still hope shone from them, and there was only a small part of him that cared about the fact that he looked awful. It was a small enough part to be ignored, after all, because if they cared they would never have left so often and for so long.

"Goodbye, Father," Lorcan told him, and brown eyes widened in realisation, but it was too late. The man was dying before he could blink again.

"I'm… sorry, son," the man started slowly as his weak hand came to brush over Lorcan's skin, feeling abnormally warm over his frozen face. "I… love…you."

Lorcan stared at him wide-eyed. It didn't matter now right? Those words didn't matter when he was supposed to be regretting all of this, right? Then why was there an ache in his chest? Why did it ache almost physically?

"She's dead, and I didn't even have to do anything," Sanguini sounded upset, like his favourite toy had been taken from him, and all Lorcan could register was the fact that his parents were dead, and the last he had seen and heard from them was their love. Love that he had never believed was there before, and Lorcan was frozen in place by it.

"No matter, I can probably still pull some blood from her…"

That was the only thing that registered, and Lorcan was flying at Sanguini, just like he had so many times before, except he was a little more prepared for it now. He was a little better, and he had anger and frustration to aid him where he lacked strength.

It wasn't enough, though, and Lorcan was caged within those steel arms again.

"Remember, little boy, this was what you wanted."

 **Written for Quidditch League Finals Round 1: Wigtown Wanderers Captain [Lorcan Scamander & Sanguini]**


End file.
